


Wonder

by SamanthaFeng



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:38:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1303531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaFeng/pseuds/SamanthaFeng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson doesn't mind the sexual relationship Melinda May and Grant Ward are having. But there are moments, when he can't help but wonder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wonder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trrrasparente](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trrrasparente/gifts).



> This idea was originally intended for this year's Porn Battle, but apparently, procrastination has kept me from finishing anything on time.
> 
> And again, this is for Silvia, because she wants something with a higher rating.

Phil Coulson doesn't mind the sexual relationship Melinda May and Grant Ward are having. No, really, it's only a way agents often use to release unwanted tension. Just sex, no string attached, he certainly has done it with someone before.

Phil doesn't think about it much (it's really not his place), but sometimes, during those lonely moments at night (while she most likely has someone sharing her bed), or when he sees the two of them standing close, Grant's stare longing, the images can't help but creep into his mind and he wonders.

 

_He wonders if she is still the first one to leave after sex._

Phil watched Melinda sitting on the edge of the bed, bottoning up her shirt one by one.

When she finished, she leant down, brushed her lips briefly on his cheek, and was ready to get up after that.

His fingers closed on her wrist. "Stay for a while."  
  
"You know I have a briefing this morning right?  
  
"Just a little longer. Ten minutes. “He insisted, not letting go of her wrist. “The Hub is only 20 minutes away, we have plenty time."  
  
Melinda gave up after a long pause. "Alright."  
  
She let him pull her down, his arms around her waist, his head tucking into the crook of her neck. They fitted perfectly together.  
  
"Don't get used to this." She said, her voice light.

 

 _He wonders if they count each other's scars._  
  
"Moscow, Damascus, Jakarta..." Melinda lay on his chest, her fingertip absently tracing the scars on his torso, reading them like a map. She stopped at a fresh one, the skin around it was still pink. "This one is new."  
  
"Got it two weeks ago. When I was in Budapest with Clint and Tash."  
  
She propped herself up on her elbows and frowned a little. "Tash didn't tell me you were injured."  
  
"Nothing serious." Phil shrugged, taking the opportunity to pin her against the mattress. "What about this one on your shoulder?"  
  
"Hong Kong. A bullet grazed me." She lips curled up slightly as he began to trail feather light kisses on her scar, then along her body.  
  
Later, when they parted, she whispered in his ears, "try not to get yourself more scars, Phil. I don't want our precious alone time all on scar counting."

 

 _He wonders if she still bites when she comes._  
  
"Ah." Melinda cried out when Phil placed several open-mouthed kisses on her neck, gently sucking the tender skin of a spot he knew was extremely sensitive.  
  
"Quiet. They might hear us." He murmured against her skin. Frankly, he was mostly beyond the caring point now, but having Fury know they were having quickie in a storage room and send them both to Alaska was the last thing he wanted.  
  
Melinda wanted to shoot something back, but the words died when his clever hand slid into her skirt and skillfully find the place she had longing to be touched all day.  
  
Phil crashed his lips on hers, swallowing their moans.  
  
She buried her face in his shoulder, muffling the sound as he drove her higher and higher. When the sensation was about to explode, she bit him, hard.  
  
After they climbed down from the climax, both still a little panting, she said, "sorry, have to be quiet."  
  
Days later, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror without a shirt on, a faint mark still visible above his shoulder blade.  
  
(Somehow, he started to like the new habit she had developed. It gave him something to remind of her, when they were in different ops, thousand miles away.)

 

He wonders if she says Grant's name the same as she did his when he takes her. Half a whisper, half a plea.  
  
He wonders if she joins him in the shower and makes him forget the stream. Her wet hair slippy between his fingers, her soft body warm against the cold wall.  
  
He wonders if she lets him hold her when the nightmare visits, or if she borrows his shirt and leaves her scent lingering for days.  
  
Most of all, he wonders, when the old memories rush back and threaten to drown him, if she thinks about them too.


End file.
